Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII.

AN: Happy birthday to me!

.:Vicissitudes:.

Pulling the safety catch off the gun, Yuffie raised the muzzle to the target, sighting down the barrel with a sharp eye. Her finger rested lightly on the trigger, perfectly ready to obey her every command. "This is for you, Vinnie," she whispered intensely, and pulled the trigger. There was a bang that drowned out everyone's clamoring voices for a moment.

Dropping the weapon, she held her breath as she waited for the smoke to clear to survey her results. "No!" she wailed. The neon pink, suction cup-tipped dart had landed just a centimeter from the red circle on the Mog's butt, once again. Huffing, she crossed her arms and turned accusingly to Vincent, who stood beside her with a bored expression. "I did everything you told me to! This is the fricking fifth time I tried this!"

"Yes," intoned Vincent with absolutely no interest whatsoever. He shifted slightly, trying to work out the kink in his neck that resulted after standing in line for a full hour. Why Yuffie enjoyed these childish Golden Saucer games, he couldn't profess to know. Neither did he really care, except for the fact that she had dragged him along as her shooting instructor.

Hearing her companion's dead-pan response, Yuffie sighed and gave him up for a lost cause. Instead, she faced the man responsible for doling out the prizes that were rightfully hers. Yes, those stuffed animals on the shelf behind the Mog were going to be hers, even if she had to stand there and try twenty more times. "What the hell's wrong with your game?" she demanded angrily.

The man, a rotund being with a distinctly unctuous air, guffawed a braying laugh that reminded her of Scarlet. "Sorry, miss! I guess you just ain't good enough! Say, how about tryin' again for the low price of 200 gil?"

She growled inarticulately and strode back to the end of the line. Forming her features into her best battle scowl, she muttered to Vincent, "Vinnie, we're going to win that white Cait Sith-looking Mog and the fifty GP if I have to stay here all day…"

This struck a sudden chord of foreboding within the gunman. He had been banking on the possibility that Yuffie would tire herself out after a couple of hours, then demand that he purchase food for her before they returned to the hotel. But the young ninja had resolved to do something now, and he silently despaired. Chaos chuckled sadistically at his plight. Host, I love watching her kill you slowly…

Shut up. He automatically shushed the demon as he watched the line in front of him slowly dwindle. No one had managed to hit the center of the target, though plenty of children and adolescents alike had attempted their best to shoot the dart at the red circle on the Mog's rear end.

Narrowing his eyes, Vincent scrutinized the shooters. Though he couldn't expect to the eleven-year-olds to hit the center, it was odd that not even the grizzly old soldier two in front of them made it. As the man swore and turned away, gripping the real firearms at his waist tightly, Vincent knew something was wrong.

As the child in front of them handed her ice cream cone to her nearby parent, Vincent watched closely. The girl wiped her face with an arm, then pointed in the general direction of the Mog and fired. There! Even Chaos had seen it, through the sparkling cloud of smoke. The little flicker.

Yuffie yanked on his cloak impatiently. It was finally her turn again. "Come on, Vinnie! Hurry up!" Stepping up to the line, she felt a tinge of annoyance at the fat booth-keeper's smirk as he extended his hand for her money. She swore she would steal him blind as soon as she got the Mog. But when she reached for the plastic gun, a warm hand suddenly gripped her wrist, and she looked up to see Vincent staring at the man with a calculating look.

"I'll shoot," he said. At the start of her protest, he shook his head.

"Then you'll need this—" the rotund man stated, handing him the gun with an unconcerned grin. It was all the same to him whether the loud girl or the strange man shot; he was confident that neither would make it.

Wordlessly, Vincent took the gun and aimed with a smooth movement that resulted from decades of practice. He did not even take half a second to aim, and the dart flew with a comical bang, releasing a cloud of green smoke that briefly obscured their vision. As they eagerly awaited, a delighted squeal rose from Yuffie. The dart had impacted the target dead center, with no room for mistake. Even the tiny ring of exposed red surrounding the dart tip was perfectly even.

"You're AWESOME! How'd you do that?" she shrieked ecstatically. Granted, she would have preferred it if she shot it herself, but it was just as nice that he did it. He did not answer, but handed the gun back to shocked owner.

"I believe the prize would be the stuffed imitation of the Mog there," Vincent said impassively.

The booth-keeper stuttered a choked gasp, then ran to the front of the booth to take a closer look. The results were undeniable. "Wuh-what? You weren't supposed to be able to hit it!"

"No. Only on account of your clever device," he answered, pulling the Winchester out of its holster emotionlessly. The man's sputtering only increased as the large silver gun was suddenly pointed at his face.

"What-what do you think you're doing with that? Hey! Securi—eeek!" There was a sharp crack and bang, with the deep note of a true weapon. Yuffie's jaw dropped at this rather unconventional action, and the booth-keeper raised shaking hands to his now clipped mustache. "I-I…"

"…placed a mechanism on the Mog to shift it as soon as the gun was fired. The movement would be masked by the gun's smoke, and thus no one would ever win the prize, correct?"

"What do you mean? And how'd you make it then?"

"I knew it how it was going to move."

"What was the next shot for?" growled the suddenly furious man. They turned and saw that there was now a neat, round hole in the Mog's formerly crystalline eye. As Yuffie took a closer look, she suddenly noticed the sparking wires that were nestled behind the innocuous glass.

"Wow Vinnie, you do have good aim…" A more expressive man would have rolled his eyes, but Vincent only sighed and pointed the gun at the booth keeper.

"The Mog, please."

"You know what, Vinnie?" said Yuffie, skipping ahead of the man happily. Only the steady clank-clank of his boots informed her that he was still following.

"…"

"Thanks for getting the Mog for me!"

"…"

"And carrying it for me too!"

"…"

"And buying me two hot dogs, four egg tarts, and an ice cream!"

"…"

"Not to mention the cotton candy, chocolate chip cookies, and the caramel too."

"…"

"But you should have let me figure the shooting thing out by myself…"

"…"

"So I'm going to play that arm wrestling thing until I beat it, and you're coming with me!" The clanking abruptly stopped, and she swore she heard something like a choked gasp of fear. She turned back to glance at the tall gunman. "Vinnie?"

But he was already turning back, and walking so swiftly that if she had any doubts about Vincent's lack of normality, they were gone now.

"Hey! Wait up! Where are you going? The wrestling thing's that way!" she cried, running after him.

AN: Haha! XD It's my birthday! So even if my parents totally shot my self-esteem down yesterday, I must muster up some happiness to celebrate. I'm sixteen now! Yay!